Your Character's Name: Calvin The storm of this dead world had thrown this wretch to far off course. But Calvin had enough of this path. My heart is beating through my ears, the thought of finding her, my final step. The sudden freedom of why and when all slipped away. I don't care how I will find her, nor do I care why she is there after it all. Heavy steel toed boots crushed the stones and underbrush beneath Cal and Cue. Trailing behind him Cupid stopped heaving her breath in her lungs. The weight of the Horseman’s clothing that neither of the two were used to. The disguises would allow the two of them past the first few barriers of the encampment. But once inside the church the guise would be up. None of the elites allow any of the Apocalytes through the doors. It will be a blowout and a fire fight, if the two make it that far.
[Calvin and I find our way to the lair of the horsemen at last. There are two men standing outside, leaning on two of four large pillars marking the entrance to this hellish place. In the twilight, the building looms over us sculpted from black sludge, its tower tearing a hole in heaven itself. I can almost hear the angels crying. Bodies, human and animal alike, mark the outlines of the threshold, displayed mangled and piked for all the world to see. Calvin and I approach.] [[#sdfootnote1sym|1]] “Okay Cupid, you have to leave now! I have pulled you from the life you knew and loved and thrust you into a world of violence and fear. Now, with Bartre's disappearance I can't allow this to continue, I'm a selfish bastard and I can see it now.” We were leaning against some rumble a short shot off of our target. Staring blankly at me with her placid and scientific eyes she mumbles. “Aren't you overreacting a little?” “Are you SER-IOUS!?” My throat cracked. “Okay, Calvin... I think that is enough of that.” Her maternal and calm response was frustrating. I lowered my voice and aimed it right at her, hoping to shake her at least a little. “Cue, I really appreciate all that you have done, but this is a suicide mission, and I don't want to do this to you. You are smart and talented...” the sadness grabbed at my Adam's apple. “... and you and Bartre have a lot to live for. He's out there, I know he is... he must have just wandered off.” I began breaking up, showing her my weakness, or at least making her believe it. Bartre may be dead already, he wouldn’t stand a chance alone. I just have to sell this to Cue to make her leave here, anywhere from here is safer. If I survive, she'll never forgive me. Her unwashed eyes stared at me, I couldn't tell if she was buying my crocodile tears. “Calvin...” Reaching out a hand for my harm, I think she's being sympathetic, she wasn't very good at it. It kinda made it sweeter. “Just go find Bartre, the next time I see you guys I'll be introducing you to the world's most beautiful redhead!” Shattering my tears with a proud smile. I wish she knew this was goodbye. A long stare traded between us... “Okay, Cal.” Shrugging off she turned on a dime and headed out.
The first guards stepped aside and nodded, snarling monstrous faces stained a brown-red from their feasting. Wandering towards the bleak temple, I counted so many of them. I watched the more renowned and mimicked their saunter. The loud and tough ones had a slang, I stole that right off their tongues. After being recognized, as one of their own, we played some cards and dice. Betting supper, and rape victims. Opportunities were boundless once I was within, but this was no chameleon skin, I had to go deeper. Five rounds later of this hard liquor, it's taste is so thick; the kind that sits it your cheeks and makes your throat beg you not to. Four or five of these got me in. Arms of mine were sore, hard to think, they keep punching me. I think about punching back, I take a swing. He dodges, bigger fellow, at least one and a half of 'im. My stomach rejects the last shot a little, I gargle and chuckle.
And before a drunken bat of the eyes, a sobering and searing pain is charged up my arm. It's hot white pain, internal. Even harder to, focus.
“Arrhhhgh!” Trying to bite back the higher pitches. What is this...my arm. The big guy.
“W'ere da fucks your mark! W'ere da fuck!?” He shouts into my ear, feels like his breaking more than just my arm. What mark, I think to myself, how could I overlook a mark?
“Your an outsider!” “Get 'im!” They start screaming. The groups are amassing and before I know it, it's a riot, what the hell can I do now. And the arm pinned over my back does me in, a solid snap, I whited out.
The storm of this dead world had thrown this wretch to far off course. But Calvin had enough of this path. My heart is beating through my ears, the thought of finding her, my final step. The sudden freedom of why and when all slipped away. I don't care how I will find her, nor do I care why she is there after it all.
Heavy steel toed boots crushed the stones and underbrush beneath Cal and Cue. Trailing behind him Cupid stopped heaving her breath in her lungs. The weight of the Horseman’s clothing that neither of the two were used to. The disguises would allow the two of them past the first few barriers of the encampment. But once inside the church the guise would be up. None of the elites allow any of the Apocalytes through the doors. It will be a blowout and a fire fight, if the two make it that far.
[Calvin and I find our way to the lair of the horsemen at last. There are two men standing outside, leaning on two of four large pillars marking the entrance to this hellish place. In the twilight, the building looms over us sculpted from black sludge, its tower tearing a hole in heaven itself. I can almost hear the angels crying. Bodies, human and animal alike, mark the outlines of the threshold, displayed mangled and piked for all the world to see. Calvin and I approach.] [[#sdfootnote1sym|1]]
“Okay Cupid, you have to leave now! I have pulled you from the life you knew and loved and thrust you into a world of violence and fear. Now, with Bartre's disappearance I can't allow this to continue, I'm a selfish bastard and I can see it now.” We were leaning against some rumble a short shot off of our target. Staring blankly at me with her placid and scientific eyes she mumbles.
“Aren't you overreacting a little?”
“Are you SER-IOUS!?” My throat cracked.
“Okay, Calvin... I think that is enough of that.” Her maternal and calm response was frustrating.
I lowered my voice and aimed it right at her, hoping to shake her at least a little.
“Cue, I really appreciate all that you have done, but this is a suicide mission, and I don't want to do this to you. You are smart and talented...” the sadness grabbed at my Adam's apple. “... and you and Bartre have a lot to live for. He's out there, I know he is... he must have just wandered off.” I began breaking up, showing her my weakness, or at least making her believe it. Bartre may be dead already, he wouldn’t stand a chance alone. I just have to sell this to Cue to make her leave here, anywhere from here is safer. If I survive, she'll never forgive me. Her unwashed eyes stared at me, I couldn't tell if she was buying my crocodile tears.
“Calvin...” Reaching out a hand for my harm, I think she's being sympathetic, she wasn't very good at it. It kinda made it sweeter.
“Just go find Bartre, the next time I see you guys I'll be introducing you to the world's most beautiful redhead!” Shattering my tears with a proud smile. I wish she knew this was goodbye.
A long stare traded between us...
“Okay, Cal.” Shrugging off she turned on a dime and headed out.
The first guards stepped aside and nodded, snarling monstrous faces stained a brown-red from their feasting. Wandering towards the bleak temple, I counted so many of them. I watched the more renowned and mimicked their saunter. The loud and tough ones had a slang, I stole that right off their tongues. After being recognized, as one of their own, we played some cards and dice. Betting supper, and rape victims. Opportunities were boundless once I was within, but this was no chameleon skin, I had to go deeper.
Five rounds later of this hard liquor, it's taste is so thick; the kind that sits it your cheeks and makes your throat beg you not to. Four or five of these got me in. Arms of mine were sore, hard to think, they keep punching me. I think about punching back, I take a swing. He dodges, bigger fellow, at least one and a half of 'im. My stomach rejects the last shot a little, I gargle and chuckle.
And before a drunken bat of the eyes, a sobering and searing pain is charged up my arm. It's hot white pain, internal. Even harder to, focus.
“Arrhhhgh!” Trying to bite back the higher pitches. What is this...my arm. The big guy.
“W'ere da fucks your mark! W'ere da fuck!?” He shouts into my ear, feels like his breaking more than just my arm. What mark, I think to myself, how could I overlook a mark?
“Your an outsider!” “Get 'im!” They start screaming. The groups are amassing and before I know it, it's a riot, what the hell can I do now. And the arm pinned over my back does me in, a solid snap, I whited out.
[[#sdfootnote1anc|1]]How things seem to come full circle and empathy for Robert Neville